


Natural

by Faal



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, I just really wanted to write, Less graphic than canon, M/M, Temporary Character Death, description of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faal/pseuds/Faal
Summary: The first time Nicoló di Genova dies by someone else’s hand, Yusuf thinks he feels the pain of the natural order being broken.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 16
Kudos: 247





	Natural

**Author's Note:**

> I blame red, who ordered me to watch this movie. I don't even know what I'm doing.

There is an order to everything. Even to the life of soldiers of gods, immortal in their vicious mission of slaughter. You can’t just break the order: that has consequences. 

The first time Nicoló di Genova dies by someone else’s hand, Yusuf thinks he feels the pain of the natural order being broken and he knows, on a visceral level, under the  _ this is not right this is not right thisisnotright  _ running through his head as he stares at the broken body of the crusader, a long-seen comrade of his from Jerusalem standing behind him, the stone in his hand still dripping blood, he knows then that there must be consequences and that he probably does not want to wait to find out what are those. He feels the uncomfortable, clammy hands of dread gripping up his back, air clogging up his throat. He knows something is coming: the natural order has been broken and something has to happen and maybe, maybe if he’s quick enough he won’t have to find out what that is. 

So he moves, over the body that has been Nicoló di Genova up until minutes ago, but now is just a body and  _ the order has been broken so he can’t tell if it will become Nicoló again _ \- he moves, scimitar slicing and thrusting, the man who had been his brother-in-arms when the war started falling with wide eyes, life draining out of him in a wide arch through the wound in his neck. Yusuf does not check if he is dead or is condemned to a slow agony: he crouches above the man that had killed him dozens of times, whose sword and hands and body is familiar in an intimate way that should be blasphemous but is  _ right.  _

He crouches and he waits, his breaths thundering in his ear, eyes on Nicoló’s mouth and eyes and chest and mouth again, waiting for a twitch, a breath, a sound. 

When Nicoló does move, Yusuf feels like he escaped. The natural order had been broken and no one can realign the pieces that were knocked out of place, but now they are moving forward in the right way again. The weight, the murmur of  _ notright _ is not gone, but it feels like they may be able to evade the consequences just for a little bit longer. 

The first time Yusuf  Al-Kaysani dies by someone else’s hand feels unimportant. He feels unclean, his clothes baked in a mix of blood and sand, the murmur of  _ thisisnotright _ a quiet whisper in the back of his mind, easily drowned out by the relief as blond hair curtains over him, shading the world from view as his eyes rake over sharp features as the darkness fades and light comes into focus. 

The first time Yusuf Al-Kaysani dies by someone else’s hand in protection of a man who came to take his home and who killed him again and again and who was killed by him again and again, it feels right. As he gasps back to life, he feels, deeply and unmistakably, the natural order, still in place. 

The first time Nicoló di Genova dies by someone else’s hand in protection of him, Yusuf’s mind is flooded with a hurricane of  **_thisisnotright_ ** , drowning out everything else. The natural order had been broken: there need to be consequences. He doesn’t even think about it as he moves faster and surer than he had ever done before. There need to be consequences and he is there to deliver them. They killed his crusader, the man who came to steal his home and along the way became it, the man whose laugh is like sunlight, whose hair is gold and who  _ belongs to him _ \- the natural order has been broken and the ones responsible need to die, die for real and without coming back. 

The first time Yusuf Al-Kaysani kisses Nicoló di Genova, it’s desperate, with blood on their lips, the latter still lying on the ground where he woke up from being slaughtered, his killers strewn around them, unmoving in their final death. It feels like absolution. It feels like light, like air, like a flash of the divinity they gave everything up for. It feels like the natural order. 


End file.
